The Party is Over and Pointless Wishing

The Party is Over and Pointless Wishing

has reared its ugly head again.
I have a sense of being
left behind,
out of the loop of a life
that once defined me.

The Halloween party was a joy,
but it’s over now
and a bubble of “normal” I blew
for its duration has popped.

Family and friends have left,
wearing their independence
like a casual accessory
flung over a shoulder, and

I sit and look at the wonky,
creased up smile on a tired
pumpkin faced balloon
as it lies limp on the floor.
I, too, am limp;
I haven’t the energy to
pick it up

or to do anything else at all,
and writing poetry or reading,
which, especially at times such as this,
is what usually keeps me feeling alive,
just isn’t enough.

I simply want what I cannot have.

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Stealthily Snatching Summer

 

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The roses at the far end of the

garden are still in full swing

dressed to kill, dancing,

drinking it all in,

summer wine-drenched oblivion;

they won’t hear of it!

But the night is still young mood

is too much for delicate lightweights

jaded, stooped and bedraggled,

hungover too soon

grasping at the ungraspable,

while unbeknown,

the party is nearing its end,

something more powerful in charge

and ready or not

every single one will be

left out in the cold.

Elephant Trousers

It seems that summer has given up,
gloomy, overweight clouds
sagging, grey-bellied.
Although a salvaged remnant of
watery blue breaks through,

like the fabric you bought for my dress;
I’d had my eye on it for weeks,
faded, outstayed welcome in
shop window, scrap-box demoted.
Nice and cheap though
and you had enough
broderie anglaise trimming at home
to brighten it up.

Out came the Singer;
how I loved that machine,
its treadle and spools, smell of oil
and complicated attachments –
Please don’t play with those.
Your stoical fast pedaling full of purpose.
You showed me how to use it,
delicate threads of patience
stitched into every pin-pricked lesson,
with yards and yards of laughing love.

I can see you now
looking up at today’s clouds.
There isn’t enough blue sky up there
to sew an elephant a pair of trousers,
I hear you say.

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Anthology

I am thrilled to have several of my poems included in a new anthology The book is called Touching MS – Poetic Expressions, and all the poems are written by MS patients from all over the world.

 As most of you know I started writing poetry shortly after my diagnosis, and it was, and still is, a very therapeutic exercise for me, but I am now beginning to spread my wings a little and I write on other topics too. Writing poetry has saved my sanity during the very difficult past two years, (the little bit I may have left, that is!!).

Of course, all my poems included in this anthology are related in some way to MS and the book is divided into sections such as hope, acceptance, humour, kinship, denial, diagnosis etc.

The fact that some of what I have written so far is now “out there”, and hopefully on its way to helping others come to terms with/manage this horrible condition, is a dream come true. So I would like to thank all of you who are following my blog, especially those who have followed me from the beginning of this scary part of my journey, for your strong support and encouragement. If MS has any bonuses at all, then a huge one is the fabulous friendships that have been forged over the past two very difficult years. Thank you all!! 🙂

Here is a link to the book Touching MS Poetic Expressions

Wendy L. Macdonald

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